Homefront
by adriennett
Summary: Every action has its own consequences and sometimes these consequences are worse than we think. He has learned this lesson. Or not? Now he's hiding in an abandoned building, fighting for his and his brother's life. How far is he able to go, to protect his home?
1. Prologue

**Summary**: Every action has its own consequences and sometimes these consequences are worse than we think. He has learned this lesson. Or not? Now he's hiding in an abandoned building, fighting for his and his brother's life. How far is he able to go, to protect his home?

**A/N:** I've said that my life is crazy nowadays, but I love writing and a new idea came to me. So, I'm not gonna stop. Well, this story is way different than my other one. It had started its career as a one-shot in my head, but I decided to write a chapter-story.  
I work hard on the translation, but it's probably still full of mistakes. Sorry for them, I try to do my best. Foreseeably, I will rarely update, depends on how much time I'll have.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own TMNT.

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_Whatever we do, there will always be consequences. We do not need to learn how to control our actions, but how to cope with the consequences._

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With great difficulty, but he managed to open his eyes. At first he saw only darkness; his vision was infested with confluent blots. He tried to move, but every part of his body screamed in pain. His muscles ached, his strength left him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sit up. He gently tilted his head to one side on the off-chance he may learn more about his environment, but saw nothing but blackness. His lungs tightened, he needed oxygen. He deeply soaked in the air of the room, which was filled with dust, forcing him feeble coughing.

He tried to recall the last few hours, but nothing, as if his memory had been erased. His head rumbled, the thoughts flashed unstoppably in his mind, but didn't manage to take hold of one single thought shred. _Where is he? Why is his whole body hurting? What happened?_ He sought for the answer for these questions primarily. When the coughing subsided, he flexed his muscles and tried to stand up. As soon as he moved, sharp, unbearable pain shot him, due to which his face grimaced and a faint moan escaped between his lips. He couldn't diagnose exactly the source of the pain, his whole body ached, but he didn't give up. In the accompaniment of a deep breath, he managed to kneel. Suddenly, he seized with dizziness, so he needed to rest his palms on the floor to not collapse. He hoped that, if he could determine where he is at the moment, the confusion would vanish out from his mind.

After a few moments, his excitement abated, his skull had less hummed. He had to think with clear head, if he wanted to know, what had happened. Once his eyes accustomed to the darkness, slowly a large, half-destroyed room unfolded in front of him. Some of the furniture was tilted up, the plaster torn in many places off of the wall, enfolding the floor. In the middle of the room, there was a coffee table, lying on the ground, surrounded by cartridge cases.

His eyes widened. Cartridge cases? He carefully crawled to the table and with trembling fingers picked up the bullets. They were still warm. So this meant that the gun, which belonged to, would recently was fired. He would have swallowed, but his throat was completely dry, his tongue was like sandpaper. He sighed deeply, and got back on his feet hanging on at the table. This is only succeeded for the second time, at first his legs buckled.

When he was finally able to stand without holding on, started surveying the room more thoroughly. He actually didn't know what he is looking for. Anything, that could help him remember.

Suddenly a rattling sound caught his ear, petrifying him. The sounds came from lower down. He prepared himself to investigate, but when foreign language had partnered to the crashing noise, he changed his mind and looked for hiding places. He was weak, and if the noise belonged to enemy, there would have been no chance to win against them.

He crouched behind an overturned cabinet, and waited. The footsteps came ever closer. The figures walked into the room where he just abstained. The door opened, accompanied by a faint creak, and two men entered. Both of their faces were covered with a mask, and they carried a gun in their hands.

Suddenly memories flooded the fugitive's mind.

_His brother!_

His heart leapt, legs trembled. The two masked guy noticed the small voice of him. One of them nodded to the other to look around. That one gripped his weapon harder, and with slow, firm strides, walked towards the overturned cabinet.

The fugitive's breathe quickened. They will notice him. They will kill him. God, they will kill him! It is not enough that he was weak; there were no weapons on him. But he may not have given up. His brother needs him. His Master was right. Every action has serious consequences. In fact, sometimes the consequences have much greater effect on humans, or turtles, than the act itself...

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**A/N:** What do you think? Well, this prologue was really short, but I promise, the chapters will be longer.

xx


	2. The living Dead

**Summary:** Every action has its own consequences and sometimes these consequences are worse than we think. He has learned this lesson. Or not? Now he's hiding in an abandoned building, fighting for his and his brother's life. How far is he able to go, to protect his home?

**A/N:** Hey guys! Thank you for the reviews and the favs/follows. It was a difficult job to write, because my computer is dying. I'm so sorry for the horrible translation, I hurried, but I hope it isn't that bad. I know, the prologue was confusing, but in time, everything will be clear.

**Warning:** dark and confusing fic

**Disclaimer:** I do not own TMNT.

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_Five days earlier…_

Casey Jones came home late. He took off his thick coat, hung it up, and let out himself. Today was a long day and he was glad to finally be home. He left his dirty boots in the foreground and toddled into the kitchen barefoot. The whole house was dominated by darkness, out of which he thought that his beautiful wife, April was obviously asleep. Getting into the kitchen he turned on the electricity. The sudden light hurt his eyes, forcing him to blink. He combed his dark hair out of his face, then stepped to the fridge and took out a water bottle, the contents of which he pulled down immediately. He plopped down on one of the chairs around the dining table, and at length lost in thought.

His life less than two months ago overturned upside down. Nothing was the same. Nothing. Lately he devoted his life for the work, since April had lost his job; he was looking for the 'bread' alone. He rarely talked to the woman, and if he spoke, those conversations were not like before. Casey missed his wife's beautiful, joyous voice, her charming smile. As much as he wanted to see again, these things disappeared one and a half month ago.

_One and a half months? Seems longer._ The days pass extremely slowly. Constantly only the grey, alike weekdays. The man has been repeatedly turned his mind to go out for the night a little, but the patrols wouldn't be the same. Nothing is the same.

He sighed deeply. He did not want to think about those terrible events. They've already passed, it's over. He rather should be glad that he and his wife live safely together, without risk. But he couldn't. No matter how blissful he was that there's nothing wrong with April, he couldn't tell the same about everyone. Maybe, she wasn't harmed physically, but her spirit shattered due to the severe trauma. Just like he's.

Jones played with the empty bottle. Generally, after a long work he used to fall asleep immediately, but today he wasn't sleepy. His brain was constantly spinning and was filled with a variety of confusing thoughts. But he didn't want to stay in here after all. He got up, threw the bottle into the trash and headed towards the bedroom with soft footsteps.

As he opened the door, a harmonious snuffle aroused his attention. Silently he walked to the bed, and smiled. Curling up, embracing the blanket, April slept peacefully. The man leaned down and gently kissed her forehead, who onto this stirred, but didn't wake up. There was only one true meaning in his life. Her.

After he had left the bedroom, decided to take a shower and joins his wife. Sure, he wasn't heavy-eyed, but the sight of April always filled his heart with warmth. He crossed the living room to reach the bathroom, when something caught his gaze. He discovered a sheet of paper on the glass table in front of the TV rack. He scowled. _Maybe April just forgot it in here_, the thought crossed his mind, but his curiosity overcame him excessively, so he stepped to the table and picked up the note. On it, two lines of handwritten text was readable. The rough letters were familiar to Casey.

_**Today on the roof at midnight. Come alone, don't be followed by anyone.**_

He read the two lines again and again. His hands began to sweat, his heart rate accelerated. He spotted something odd with his eyes. The paper was slightly crumpled and dirty and didn't belong any signature to the message. _This is… no… it's impossible! _The man had to gasp for air, he felt the air of the living room narrowing, suffocating him. He felt that he's going to collapse immediately. He had to rely on the wall to maintain balance. Long, he had struggled with the suffocating until he managed to calm down. He took deep breaths, and bit his bottom lip. Again, Casey read the short letter, and then looked at the clock which adorned his left arm.

_**11:47**_

It's almost midnight. What should he do? He was completely confused. _It could not be his handwriting, no way, since, he and his brothers are… no. They're alive, the have to be alive. _As much as he wanted to believe this, the passed time proved the contrary of it. If they survived, they'd have already showed up, or not?

For a few long minutes, he just walked up and down in the living room.

_It can't be him. There's no way! Or is he...? But this handwriting... the anonymity... is it possible?_ Well, he won't find out if he does not go after him. To the effect of this idea, he straightened and putting his insecurity aside, went to the hall, put on his jacket, but before he could climb out of the living room's window to the ladder, targeted the pantry-designed room. The tiny room was full of old stuffs, packed into cardboard boxes. Casey started poking around in one of them. After a few minutes long rummaging, found what he was looking for.

Two minutes before midnight a masked, baseball bat owner man was standing by the window, ready to go. But before he could open the window, he froze. A familiar feeling conquered him. The feeling he hasn't felt for one and a half months. Blood raced wildly in his veins, his heart beat fast. Adrenaline. He liked this feeling.

He smiled under his mask and climbed out on the ladder. At midnight he was already standing on the top of the apartment and waited. The rooftop was absolutely empty. Besides the luxurious New York City skyline, nothing else was discovered. Maybe he just imagined it. Maybe his mind just played with him. Perhaps the letter didn't exist...

Suddenly a faint little voice hit his ears. He strongly gripped his baseball bat and in defensive position, lifted it in front of him, preparing for a possible attack. He then became aware of a restrained, uproarious laughter.

"You're so paranoid, Casey Jones!" Casey raised his head. He lowered the bat and with slow motion, reversed. His eyes nearly fell out from its place. In front of him was standing a green figure with developed musculature, yellow plastron, two sais in his belt and a red bandana. The man may have never been reached with such a shock, as now. Trembling ran through his whole body, barely able to take off his mask. When it was removed, his wide open eyes and agape mouth came to view.

"R… Raph?" Casey couldn't utter more. _It's unfeasible. He… and his brothers are… no… Impossible!_ He rubbed his eyes, if he's just imagining, but he isn't. Before him really a flesh and blood Hamato Raphael was standing, with tensed posture, arms crossed.

"It's been a long time," said the turtle and took some remarkably cautious steps toward his friend.

"Y… yeah, it's been long…" Casey agreed, still a state of shock. "But th… this… how? You're all…" he squealed mystified. "Oh, my gosh Raph! You're here! You're really here!" the man cried out in a loud voice and let out a joyful laughter that echoed long in the night.

Raph smiled faintly and adopted a tight hug, what Casey initiated.

"But… how? What happened? The others? They are doing well?" began the questioning the man, after he had let go of the red-clad turtle.

Raphael's face hardened within seconds. Now in his eyes did not burn the fire, which has been used to. His gaze seemed dark and foggy. Laying his hand on Casey's shoulder, he leaned closer to his friend. "I need your help," he breathed whispering. Jones' eyes widened. The smile froze from his face.

"What the hell happened?" he asked terrified. As he looked more thoroughly at him, he noticed that his whole body was covered with small scars, which were remains of severe wounds. Despite he seemed strong; in fact the turtle wasn't physically powerful at all.

"Long and complicated. Suitable point in time I will explain," answered the sai-owner, letting his friend. Casey didn't like this answer.

"Long? Long? Dude, all of you disappeared afta' the attack! For almost two months I thought with April that you died! And then ya' just show up say, at other times you'll explain? No, Raphael, forget it! I wanna answers, even now!" The man was completely confused. He didn't know what to believe. It can't be. Impossible. One and a half months had passed since the attack such that nothing had heard about the turtle's family. Then a member appears, but doesn't want to say anything?

"Casey… please, shut… up." Raphael startled, his eyes narrowed. Casey began yelling, which wasn't pleased to him. He didn't want anyone to take heed of them, which would've been difficult, since they were standing on the top of a skyscraper. Difficult... but not for _Them_...

"I do _not_ wanna hear excuses or apologies. You… my goodness! Do you have any idea how I feel right now? I freaked out…" Jones slapped his forehead.

"I know this is madness, believe me, this is crazy for me as well. But it's really not suitable. Please Case… I need help…"

Casey noticed something in the turtle's voice, which never before. Fear. A very strong fear. With his glance he mapped the roof, as if he was looking for attackers. It was horrible to see him like this. Casey calmed himself that the whole thing could start with a clean slate. He didn't plan it. He didn't want to burst out, especially not now, when finally saw him for the first time after a long period.

"I'm sorry," he lowered his voice, "but it's too much for me. You're all dead, but once you just return to the world of the living…"

"I'm alone, Case."

Long silence. The so far shrieking Jones froze, staring wide-eyed at the battered turtle, whose muscles tighten, eyes start to burn. It was too much for the man. Too much. His heart skipped a beat, his throat parched. _No…_

"What happened?" he repeated the question, but received no answer.

"I have to get back to the Lair. I wanna look around, searching for clues…

"Wait," stopped him Casey. "The Lair is destroyed. We went there less than four weeks ago."

"I thought so. That is why I need your help," came the determined reply. Instead of agreeing, Case raised an issue again. "Where have you been?"

Between the two friends, a strained silence formed for a second time. Two sharp regards looked into the other one's. Casey didn't know anything about his friend. Anything. One and a half months ago, someone measured an unexpected, also a serious attack to the Hamato family. But who and why has never been revealed. Now he'd have known, but Raphael avoids the answer. Why? What is he hiding?

"I'm serious Casey! I've no time." Hardness emanated from Raphael's voice. He couldn't do anything else, nodded.

"Whatever happened to you, Raph, I have a feeling it's not over yet."

Jones quickly closed the window behind his back. He threw his coat, his baseball bat and his mask onto the couch and as fast as he could, sprinted into the bedroom. Inside, he put the light on and knelt beside the peacefully slumbering April, and gently began to wake her. "Honey, please, wake up!" he whispered sensitively into her ear. April's brows creased, lips pressed into a straight line. Her eyelids began to move, but didn't open them up. "Hey, sweetheart." Casey tried again, this time stroking his fingers on her face.

The woman started to stir. She turned to her other side, slowly opening her bleary eyes. Although she wasn't fully awoken yet, her eyes spotted her husband's excitement. "Casey?" She raised her hands in front of her eyes; the strong light beam bothered her.

"Ya' won't believe what happened ta me today!" began Casey. April let out a small groan again. "Do you know what the time it is?" she questioned. "Not it waits 'til tomorrow?"

"No." Hearing the strong voice of Casey, the woman sat up and began gazing at him eagerly.

"If you already woke me up this time of night, let's hear it."

Jones opened his mouth to speak, but didn't leave a single voice from his throat. He found hard the explanation, since he was not even aware of what had happened. The family, who has been believed dead, is alive, at least one member of it. This member suddenly appears and asks for help. It is clear that he's afraid of something, avoiding the answer. He asked him hopeless, because he couldn't even know anything that would be useful. Neither that, who attacked them, nor what exactly happened during that time period. Would the Foot Clan have done this? No. Since the death of the Shredder, the activity level of the clan is very free. The boys kept attention on the Headquarters to see if something is in progress, but nothing. Then who has done this?

"Casey." April took his hand and looked deep into his eyes. "I can see you're upset about something," she said the findings still half asleep. Casey swallowed, and finally pulled himself together to speak. "I know this is gonna sound crazy, but true. It's Raph," he explained. April took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"Casey… I know you miss hi-"

"No, it's Raph," the man interrupted," April, he's alive."

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**A/N:** So, what do you think? Tolerable?

xx


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